Amy winked at Nancy. “No problem, Dad.”
“I guess I’ve got a new partner,” Nancy said, smiling at the girl. “I can always use another detective’s help. There’s only one condition. If things get dangerous, then you’ll follow my instructions.”
“Definitely!” Terry agreed.
Amy rolled her eyes at her father, then grinned at Nancy and said, “It’s a deal.”
More than an hour later Terry drove through the tiny town of Cherry Creek and into the steep green hills above it. The town itself was built along the Pacific Ocean. A row of shops led to a wide white beach edged with redwoods and scrub oak. Terry slowed the van as he turned off the paved road and onto a narrow dirt one, edged by a steep ravine.
“This is our driveway,” Amy informed them. “You should see it when it rains—Mud Hill.”
Nancy peered out the window curiously. There was no house in sight, just the rough dirt road, bordered by evergreens and eucalyptus trees. The van moved slowly up the hill.
“I’ll probably be using the van while you’re here,” Terry said. “But you three can borrow my car. It’s—”
His voice was cut off by a loud explosion. Amy cried out as the van swerved suddenly, teetered on the edge of the ravine, and then tilted to the left. Nancy braced herself against the seat in front of her as the van slid sideways down the ravine.
2
Three Strikes
The van slid to a shuddering halt at the bottom of the ravine. Nancy’s side was pressed against the door. Amy was sliding toward her, and Bess and George toward Amy. Only the girls’ seat belts kept them from crushing each other.
“Is anyone hurt?” Terry asked anxiously.
Nancy, Bess, and George assured him that they were fine.
“I’m fine, too,” Amy said, obviously trying not to sound upset.
Terry undid his own seat belt and crawled out the passenger side of the van. Quickly he opened the side door and helped the girls out. Nancy pulled herself out of the van just in time to see a dark red sedan shoot past them and out the drive.
“Who was that?” Bess asked, her voice shaking.
Terry didn’t answer. White-faced, he walked around to the front of the van. Nancy heard him mutter an exclamation of disbelief. Following him, she saw that the van’s front right tire had blown out.
“I don’t understand it,” Terry said. “I just put on new tires last month. I must have hit something that went right through the tire.”
“What about the dark red car that just came out of your driveway?” Nancy asked.
Terry shook his head. “I’ve never seen it before.”
“I didn’t get a good look, but I think the driver was a large man with light hair,” Nancy told him.
Terry thought a moment. “Well, I don’t think it was anyone I know. It could have been someone who just turned onto the wrong driveway. Let’s go up to the house. I’d better see about getting a tow truck and then call my insurance company.”
Nancy, George, and Bess got their bags and followed Terry and Amy up to the house.
“What a place,” Bess said as they reached the top of the drive and the Kirklands’ house came into view. “It looks like a grown-up tree house!”
Built of wood and glass, its three levels spiraled into the branches of the surrounding redwoods.
“That was the idea,” Terry explained. “As a kid, I was always crazy about tree houses. When it came time to build my own home, a tree house still seemed like a good idea. Fortunately, Lan, my wife, insisted I close it in with some walls.”
He walked up to the side of the house, knelt down, and ran his hands along the earth. “We had another visitor,” he said.
“How do you know?” Nancy asked.
Terry pointed to a spot that looked as if it had been dug up and covered over again. He picked up a rock, used it to dig down, and uncovered a severed cable. “This was my alarm system,” he explained bitterly. “My second alarm system. I’d bet money that the phone lines have been cut as well.”
“Why?” George asked, puzzled.
“When this alarm is set off or tampered with, it automatically sends a phone message to the police,” Terry explained. “If the intruder knew enough to find underground cables, he probably knew about the phone connection, too.” Terry sighed heavily and stood up, brushing the dirt off his hands. “Let’s see what else our intruder was up to.”
Cautiously they went inside. Nancy’s first impression was that she was in the loveliest house she had ever seen. Terry’s work was everywhere. All the windows were edged with delicate stained-glass designs. A pattern of green vines twined around the kitchen windows. Lilies framed the large window in the living room. There were lampshades and bowls, boxes and vases, all made of colored glass. It took Nancy a few moments to stop admiring the array of beautiful objects and realize that the house had been ransacked.
In the living room someone had taken a knife and ripped through the upholstered furniture. White stuffing poured out onto the rugs. Pictures had been pulled off the walls. The doors of an inlaid cabinet were flung open, its contents scattered all over the floor.
Terry stared at the chaos, looking stunned. “We should make sure whoever was here is really gone,” he said at last. “Amy, you stay down here.”
Nancy volunteered to go with him, and together they checked the house.
“There’s no one here but us,” Nancy said when they had returned to the first floor. Amy ran up to her room when she heard it was safe to do so.
“What a mess!” Nancy exclaimed. “Do you know what was taken?”
Terry surveyed the damage and shrugged. “The place is such a shambles it’s going to take a while to sort it all out.” He picked up the telephone receiver. “Just as I thought,” he reported, “the wire’s been cut. I’m going to a neighbor’s to call the police and the phone company.”
He had just started out the door when there was a wail from upstairs. “Dad, come quick!” Terry turned at once and raced up the spiral staircase to the third floor. Nancy and her friends followed close behind.
